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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390495">Green Friend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebindingblade/pseuds/thebindingblade'>thebindingblade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Power Rangers, Power Rangers Time Force</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gardens &amp; Gardening, Gen, Male Friendship, background jen/wes/eric, eric has hobbies!! what a shock, the rest of the team is there too theyre just in the background, this is the trip and eric friendship city we deserved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:21:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebindingblade/pseuds/thebindingblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not interested in making friends,” Eric said, his anger boiling to the surface, “So why don’t you get off my property, never come back, and leave me alone.”</p><p>One part of Trip’s mind was screaming at him to leave, to call this endeavor a failure, and do exactly what Eric had told him. The other was dead set on looking at that hand trowel. It thought of the dirt leading to the backyard and staining Eric’s top, the fact that Eric was covered in sweat, and the thick gloves and boots Eric was wearing. The conclusion it came to startled Trip enough that he repeated it aloud.</p><p>“You garden?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Trip Regis &amp; Eric Myers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Green Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterLillyclaw/pseuds/MasterLillyclaw">MasterLillyclaw</a> for betaing, and all the hours of Eric lore discussion that led up to this!</p><p>Time Force I love you but you should've expanded on the Trip and Eric friendship you set up in Trip Takes a Stand. Guess it's up to me to fix that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Trip had told Wes where he was going, Wes looked at him as though he was out of his mind.</p><p><em>Not that Wes was wrong to do that.</em> Visiting Eric seemed like a hopeless endeavor to most of the team. Even on his best days, he was argumentative and uncooperative, always seeming to enjoy provoking the Rangers with a sarcastic quip or show of force. Once Eric had taken the Quantum Morpher, the team (sans Wes) thought there was a chance they would be able to work with him. Eric’s behavior in acquiring the Q-Rex, including nearly leaving Wes for dead, had convinced most of them otherwise.</p><p>Trip wasn’t most of his team, however. Here he was, standing outside of Eric’s modest home. It was a small, bare house, with blinds drawn over every window. The day was unusually hot, so Trip was thankful for the small awning that was over the porch, giving him a respite from the early afternoon’s heat. Visible on the left side of the house was the beginnings of a backyard surrounded by a chain-link fence. Most of the view into it was blocked by the large floral sheets that Eric had pinned up to dry. He had gotten so distracted by how pretty they looked that he didn’t notice he’d stepped into a pile of loose dirt on his way to the door, and wound up tracking it onto Eric’s porch. He only saw after he had ringed the doorbell for the first time, and was scrambling to put an apology into the conversation he had rehearsed on the bus ride to Eric’s house.</p><p>
  <em>Hi Eric! I wanted to get to know you better since we didn’t have time for that the first time we met! I’m Trip, but you probably know me better as the Green Ranger. Maybe you knew that already since my hair’s green and all, but I wanted to make sure! Oh, and sorry about the dirt.</em>
</p><p>After he had finished practicing, the door still hadn’t opened. Trip could feel his palms beginning to sweat. The house felt as though it were looming over him, giving him the same withering glare that Eric had sent the Rangers’ way many times. He clutched at his backpack’s strap.</p><p>
  <em>Should I ring again? I don’t wanna make him angrier…</em>
</p><p>Wes had told Trip that customers would get annoyed if he rang the doorbell too enthusiastically after Trip had rang it around five times on their first odd job together. Then again, Wes’s own advice didn’t stop him from banging loudly on the door if a client took a bit too long to arrive after the first ring. So he rang the bell again. And then another time after he had stood there for around ten minutes. And then another time after that after another five minutes. And then another time after that. Trip frowned.</p><p><em>Is Eric not home?</em> Trip’s brows scrunched up as he considered the circumstances. It was a Saturday, and no one had called him on his morpher about any mutant attacks. <em>Where else would he be?</em> He was starting to consider leaving when he heard a voice call out to him.</p><p>“What the hell do you want?”</p><p>Trip’s eyes widened. The voice was harsh, brimming with a controlled hostility that was designed to shut people up or drive them away (and definitely sounded like someone who was mad that their doorbell was rung far too many times). As Trip turned around, he saw Eric behind the fence to the backyard, sending him a look that matched the intensity of the anger in Eric’s voice. Eric was wearing a tank top that was speckled with dirt and soaked in sweat, along with dark jeans, thick brown gloves, and boots. When he noticed that it was Trip at his door, Trip saw his eyebrows furrow further.</p><p>“Oh, Eric!” said Trip with a large grin on his face as he waved his whole arm as far as it could go in both directions. He began to run over to the fence, but forgot that the porch was slightly raised, causing him to yelp as he flailed his arms to regain his balance. He didn’t fall, catching himself after several precarious steps, and laughed a bit while rubbing the back of his head as he walked over to Eric. Eric did not laugh with him.</p><p>“What are you doing here.” Said Eric, his voice somehow harsher than before.</p><p>“Well I uh, wanted to get to know you better.” Trip began, trying to recall the lines he had practiced. </p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I asked why.”</p><p>“W-Well, I mean, we’re on the same team!” At this, Eric scoffed, causing Trip’s smile to falter. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t be friends.”</p><p>“I think there’s plenty,” replied Eric, leaning down towards Trip as though he were explaining something obvious to a child, “Starting with the fact that we aren’t on the same team.”</p><p>“I-It isn’t, er, doesn’t have to be like that!” said Trip, raising his voice and gripping the topmost chains of the fence. He met Eric’s glare, before leaning back and taking several deep breaths to avoid starting an argument, “Maybe if we start out on a better foot w-we can be friends! I’m Trip, the Green Ranger.”</p><p>He smiled again, holding out his hand before remembering that it was probably sweaty. He didn’t want to risk giving Eric the wrong idea by lowering it to rub it on his pants, so he hoped Eric wouldn’t notice since his gloves were so thick. Eric looked down at his hand, then looked up at Trip again. His face was still tightly furrowed, locked into the almost permanent scowl he wore. The harsh rays of the sun cast dark shadows under his eyes, further intensifying his glare. Trip began to feel its effects eating away at his optimism when Eric turned around and began to walk away.</p><p>“Huh? Eric!” Trip couldn’t help himself from crying out after him. He winced slightly when he heard how desperate he sounded—that was definitely not going to improve Eric’s mood.</p><p>He was right, as Eric turned around at such a speed that Trip pulled back the hand he had extended in shock. Trip bit his lip as Eric pointed a hand trowel at him.</p><p>“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not interested in making friends,” Eric said, his anger boiling to the surface, “So why don’t you get off my property, never come back, and leave me alone.”</p><p>One part of Trip’s mind was screaming at him to leave, to call this endeavor a failure, and do exactly what Eric had told him. The other was dead set on looking at that hand trowel. It thought of the dirt leading to the backyard and staining Eric’s top, the fact that Eric was covered in sweat, and the thick gloves and boots Eric was wearing. The conclusion it came to startled Trip enough that he repeated it aloud.</p><p>“You garden?”</p><p>At this, Eric’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth hung open slightly, and the tension in his body dissipated. It lasted a couple of seconds before his face returned to its default scowl, and he groaned.</p><p>“If I give you an answer, will you go away?”</p><p>Trip’s mood brightened, and a genuine smile returned to his face. He wasn’t expecting to learn anything personal about Eric. Even if he did, he’d thought it be through noticing something about what he had in his home, not by hearing it from Eric himself.</p><p>“Yeah!” He said, far too enthusiastic for someone who was about to be forced to leave.</p><p>“I do. Happy?” Eric replied, lowering the hand trowel, “Now beat it.” He turned around and disappeared behind his sheets, leaving Trip standing by himself in Eric’s front yard.</p><p>He stood there for a bit, taking in what had happened. He played with the strap of his backpack and hummed, happy with what he had learned. <em>Maybe I can get to know Eric better by gardening with him, since he doesn’t like talking to people.</em> Eric did tell him to leave and never come back, but Trip wasn’t one to give up so easily. He smiled and headed back to the bus stop, already thinking of what to do next.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>The next day, Trip stopped by the library with Lucas. It was their turn to run errands that week, so it was easy to add it into their schedule. Even though by his time society had long abandoned paper and ink, Trip adored going to the library. It was one thing to scroll through folders and lists of virtual files on a holo-screen, but it was something else to see the stacks upon stacks of books as a monument to what people had learned by 2001. He had thought Wes was exaggerating when he first mentioned how a book’s scent and feel added to the experience—he was talking to Wes, after all—but after Trip checked out his first book, he was convinced.</p><p>Well, there was that and the fact that Trip thought the fat 2001 computers looked cute in their own antique way.</p><p>While Lucas flipped through some car magazines by the front, Trip wound his way through a maze of shelves and decimals until he found what he had been looking for. Spines with titles such as <em>California Gardener’s Handbook</em>, <em>Gardening in California</em>, and <em>Home Landscaping: California Region</em> stared back at him. The bright greens, reds, yellows, and oranges of the flowers neatly arranged on their covers swirled through his vision as he pulled each book out from the self, pondering the differences between them.</p><p><em>Doesn’t hurt to be overprepared.</em> He wound up taking as many as he could carry, both in his backpack and his hands. By the time he made it back to the front, Lucas had finished skimming the magazines. Noticing how Trip was wobbling to keep his stack of books from falling over, Lucas went to where he was standing in the check out line, and scooped it out of his hands. Trip gave him a sheepish smile while Lucas held one of the books closer to his face.</p><p>“So Eric’s the gardening type,” said Lucas, studying the pink and yellow flowers that adorned the cover of <em>The Complete Garden Flower Book<em>. “Didn’t peg that as one of his hobbies.”</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What did you think they were then?” asked Trip, as he maneuvered his backpack to remove the rest of the books he had inside of it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Bothering us,” Lucas snorted, “Probably.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>After some small talk with the library employee about what Trip was planning to grow, he checked out nine different books on gardening. After returning home and flipping through what  he’d checked out, Trip committed to reading and taking detailed notes on around one book a day. Katie would join him sometimes, helping him color-coordinate which flowers went best together. Wes would help as well, pointing out which flowers he vaguely recalled seeing while growing up in his huge mansion. The three of them (well, mostly Katie and Trip) created several potential garden plans, since Trip didn’t know what Eric had growing in his backyard already. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was fun, watching Wes and Katie debate over which flowers looked prettier, with the two biased towards their own ranger colors, thinking up the most absurd and expensive gardens they could imagine, and even picturing how Eric would receive all of this. Trip smiled, excited to coax Eric out of his shell.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>And then Eric had almost killed him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip had thought he was fine. He was able to take in Notacon without hurting him and defeat Frax after all. Eric had even helped after Trip had confronted him. He couldn’t stop the jitters once the team had gotten back to the Clock Tower, however. His stomach curled inwards, his breathing deepened, his eyes stared at nothing remembering how close the shot from the Quantum Defender had come to hitting him before Wes, martyr that he was, jumped in front of Trip to take it. Bile rose up in his throat when he tried to talk to Circuit about what had happened. Circuit had ended up cutting him off, letting him know that he didn’t have to tell them if he didn’t feel good talking about it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Katie told him to forget Eric and make a garden by the Clock Tower instead. Said it would be more fun to make their own at the front of the shop. Wes agreed, though it was a much softer, somber agreement. When talking about Eric, Wes tended to stand off to the side, a frown occupying the space where his wide smile would be, much quieter than he normally was. Jen and Lucas thought Eric was unsalvageable at this point. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It thus came as a shock to everyone when Trip stated he was still going to visit Eric the weekend after the incident with Notacon.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He didn’t need a sudden bout of clairvoyance to read Eric’s emotions. They were rolling out in such strong waves, hitting him as though he were a rock on the shore of a stormy sea. Deep, dark pangs of loneliness threatened to drown Trip, to drag him down to where Eric lay at the sea’s most secluded depths. He was not afraid of the undertow, though. His desire to pull Eric up outweighed any fear he might feel at the waves’ gaping maws.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>So here he was, backpack full of hand scribbled notebooks and gardening tools he had borrowed from the odd jobs shop, facing the dull white door to Eric’s house again. Maybe knocking would be more polite this time? But if Eric was in the backyard again he might not hear that Trip was there...Trip took a deep breath, bracing himself as his finger approached the dull metal button of Eric’s doorbell. He pushed it, exhaled, and waited.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>This time he heard Eric approaching from the backyard and turned to face him. Their eyes met for a second before Eric turned his gaze to the lawn.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I thought I told you not to come back.” said Eric. His voice was softer, less firm than the first time they’d spoken. He was wearing the same outfit as last time, except he had traded the tank top for a short sleeved t-shirt.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I know!” said Trip. He remembered the step off of Eric’s porch, and walked towards him without losing his balance. “I uh, wanted to see if I could garden with you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Garden. With me.” Eric looked up at Trip as he approached the fence. Eric had his hands on the top of it, gripping it while slightly slouching, making him more eye level with Trip. Trip’s hands began sweating again as he tugged at his backpack’s strap.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yeah! I still wanna get to know you. I know you said otherwise, but I consider you a part of our team. We have the same goal right?” Trip smiled, though this one didn’t reach as far as it usually did. He thought he could try the handshake again but his body refused to move his arm upwards.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric was looking at him with the most vacant expression Trip had seen on his face. His eyes were on Trip, unfocused, and his mouth was slightly ajar. Trip even thought he saw dark bags under Eric’s eyes, but perhaps the afternoon light was playing tricks on him. It wasn’t an expression that belonged on Eric’s face, that was for sure.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><em>I almost wish he was mad at me again.</em> The silence between the two was pushing down on Trip harder and harder. His gloved hands gripped the sides of his odd job uniform. He was about to say something when the creaking of metal interrupted his thoughts. Trip’s eyes widened. He looked down and saw that Eric’s gate had been opened. Looking back up, he saw that Eric had turned around to enter his backyard. Eric reached a new set of sheets he had drying before turning his head to face Trip.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are you coming or not?” asked Eric, his characteristic annoyance reentering his voice. Trip nodded furiously.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ah, wait for me!” He ran in, closing the gate behind him and following Eric through the curtain of his sheets.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip had expected a much more sterile backyard than the one he was walking through. It was bigger than he had expected, with a large tree in the back left corner. Looking at the tree further he noticed the several colorful bird themed wind chimes that hung from its branches. He got so absorbed in the chimes he nearly collided with what looked to be a picnic table with two benches on either side. He patted the table before continuing to follow Eric into the main portion of his backyard, taking note of the rocking chair and….several plastic and wooden animals that littered the dirt and grass filled yard.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>There’s no way anyone’s gonna believe me when I tell them he has those.</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>After recovering from that morsel of forbidden knowledge, he looked around and spotted a small birdcage with two gray and black birds with red faces inside. They were hopping around the cage, chirping, and Trip gasped.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“They’re so cute! What are their names?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“My birds aren’t relevant to gardening.” Eric replied, not even bothering to look back at Trip. Trip pouted, though there wasn’t much he could do about Eric...well...being Eric. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>No way anyone’s gonna believe me when I say he has birds either.</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He continued to follow Eric towards the far right corner of his backyard, where Eric kneeled down next to his garden. It was small so far, with only a few flowers occupying a dirt plot around six feet long on each side. Next to Eric were several flowers in black plastic flower pots. Trip recognized the many pink and white bulbs of milkweed, the deep blues of California lilac, the large bunches of white flowers of yarrow, and the light purple strings of lavender. The latter two were in pots waiting to be planted. There were pots of yarrow closer to the flower bed, with one close to a hole that Eric had made before Trip had interrupted him. Eric grabbed his hand trowel before looking back at Trip.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I hope you brought your own tools, because I don’t have extras.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t worry! The shop had a bunch of old tools lying around so I brought...some of them,” Trip placed his backpack on the ground, opening it, and removing the hand trowel and hand cultivator he had brought. They were slightly dented and scratched, but they worked, so he figured that was enough.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh! I almost forgot about these!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>At Trip’s exclamation, Eric looked at him with an annoyed scowl, his right eyebrow rising as though to question what “these” were. Trip grabbed his notebooks and quickly flipped to the proper diagrams within each. He turned them around so that Eric could get a clear view at what he had written.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I mean, I didn’t want to seem presumptuous or anything, but I wanted to make sure I knew enough about gardening before I came here so I wouldn’t get in your way. Er, I guess I’m doing that now, kind of, but uh, Katie and Wes and I worked on some flower plans. You already have some of the plants we were thinking of but just in case! I brought them anyway.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He cut himself off before he started rambling too much. He could feel his hands tighten around the notebook paper as Eric studied each page intently. Eric still had that judgemental look on his face as he scanned them over. He brought one of his hands to rest on his chin as Trip studied him in silence.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Ohh he’s gonna say they’re bad isn’t he. He probably knows so much more than I could read in a couple of books! He must think I’m annoying and is just waiting to have an excuse to chew me out for good...he’s gonna get mad like when—like when—the familiar acrid taste of bile found itself in his throat again. He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Maybe the rest of the team were right. Maybe I shouldn’t—</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hydrangeas?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip looked up at Eric. He was holding one of the plans with a curious gaze. He turned his head to make eye contact with Trip. Trip exhaled, glad to be out of the downward spiral his thoughts were taking him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Uh, yeah! We all thought they looked pretty so I, I mean me and Katie and Wes, put them there,” Trip stammered, “Why, are they not supposed to go with the other flowers?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No. I also think they’re beautiful,” said Eric, “It’s just the shrubs they grow on are too big for me to put in the back. I’d have to put them in the front when I get them, that’s all.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh. Oh! That makes sense! I didn’t know how big your backyard or garden was, or what you had in it, so we just guessed on a lot of things. Like the California rose! I think it looks really nice, but you don’t have a stream or body of running water anywhere, and there doesn’t seem to be much room for an artificial irrigation system, so I guess you couldn’t plant it.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric hummed. “Makes sense,” he stated, before giving the notebooks back to Trip. He put them back in his backpack before grabbing his hand trowel. Eric did the same, holding a yarrow plant out to him. Before Trip was able to grab it, Eric spoke.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Listen, I,” he appeared to be almost bashful as he looked away from Trip. Eric sighed, licking his lips before turning back to face Trip, “I really...appreciate you coming prepared. Saves me all the wasted time of having to explain everything if you knew nothing.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip took the yarrow from Eric and nodded. He smiled at Eric, though Eric turned away to focus on finishing planting the yarrow he had been working on before Trip had arrived. Trip turned towards the garden. There was a blank patch of dirt in the middle, with the California lilac surrounding it. The milkweed was behind the lilac, creating neat lines of blue and white, with more blank patches near the garden’s corners. Trip pointed at the dirt with his trowel.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“So, where should I plant this?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric guided him throughout the process, showing him how and where to plant each flower. Conversation was sparse otherwise, not that Trip minded much. He was already content with the time he had spent with Eric, digging through the musty earth and discussing flowers together. They were both sweaty, dirty messes by the time that the sun’s light was fading, turning the bright orange and pink sky into a dark inky wash. They’d finished planting everything by the time that night fell, and Trip packed up his tools and walked towards the lane that led to the fence gate. Eric accompanied him as the two walked, with the crunching of grass the only sound between them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I guess this is goodbye for now,” said Trip. He opened the gate and walked through, closing it behind him. “I mean, we’ll probably see each other when another mutant attacks, but those days are never really great, so um, I hope I see you soon but maybe under different circumstances?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His mind was screaming at him after that response had finished pouring out of his mouth. <em>Definitely not your best goodbye!!</em> Trip hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. The night didn’t need to end on a sour note.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I guess so,” Eric said, before heading back into his backyard, leaving with a small wave. “See ya.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip waved back, a smile on his face even though he knew Eric couldn’t see it. He walked off towards the bus stop, smelling of dirt, sweat, and lavender. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.</em></em></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>Unfortunately, life was never kind enough to the Time Force Rangers. The next mutant that had attacked Silver Hills had kidnapped and left Eric for dead, stolen the Quantum Morpher, and nearly used the Q-Rex to destroy the city. Worse, Eric had discovered that most of the team was from the future, and had not made any guarantees to Jen about whether he’d tell Mr.Collins or not. Eric had also been thrown around before recovering his morpher, and Trip wondered how bad the battle with Conwing had exacerbated his injuries. The morphers could make them heal faster, but they couldn’t work miracles. Trip mostly met Eric under questionable circumstances, and those were easily among the worst so far.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Wes had shared Trip’s sentiments and had gone to check up on Eric after the battle. He wasn’t out for long, but Trip felt as though he’d been working on repairing Jen’s V-Weapon for hours. It should have been a simple fix, given how many times he had done it before, but with all of the thoughts swirling around in his mind, he’d only finished repairing one of its subsystems. By the time Wes had returned, he was bouncing one leg up and down, staring at what he had left to do.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He’s doing alright. Kind of banged up, but healing well. House took a beating though.” Said Wes, somewhat muffled since he was removing his motorcycle helmet as he came up the stairs. Trip exhaled, closing his eyes and tuning out Jen and Lucas’s further questions.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><em>He’s fine. He’s fine! That’s a relief...wait? House? Beating?</em> Trip’s eyes burst open as he jumped up, slamming his hands on the table.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The garden!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Everyone was looking at him now. He had interrupted what seemed to be becoming a heated debate between Jen, Wes, and Lucas, most likely about whether Eric had sold them out yet. Jen had been in the middle of accentuating her point by clapping her hands together, while Lucas’s deeper frown and more tense body language meant his short temper had been flaring up. Wes had a conflicted expression on his face, and Katie had been about to pass out on the couch before the nature of the conversation demanded her attention. Trip’s long strides brought him in front of Wes in no time.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wes! Did you see if Eric’s garden was ok?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Wes’s eyebrows scrunched up, and he scratched at his cheek with his pointer finger. “Can’t say I was really paying attention to that. He was showing this kid his birds. Not that that’s what you’re looking for but I thought it was notable. He was even smiling!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucas scoffed. “I don’t see why we’re worrying about this. As soon as he’s healed Eric could destroy everything we’re working towards. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s done nothing but complicate our operations in the past.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But! But I—” Trip wanted to respond, but his mind was scrambling to come up with a coherent argument. Emotional appeals didn’t usually work with Lucas, unless it was related to his love life.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But you what? Who cares about flowers now?” Lucas replied. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><em>I just had to get into this argument as he was getting mad.</em> In the past he’d stop talking once Lucas reached this point, but now he didn’t want to do that anymore. He opened his mouth to continue speaking when Jen intervened.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Lucas! Cool it. Listen, I’m worried about this as much as you are, but don’t take it out on Trip. Besides, he has a point.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>That wasn’t what anyone had been expecting. As the stunned silence filled the room, with all eyes on her, Jen continued.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We know that Eric was more receptive to cooperation when we engaged him on his terms. Trip, you even said yourself that the last time you visited him he was much nicer than any other time we’ve met him. This is worth a shot,” explained Jen, “Driving him away when he has blackmail will get us nowhere.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As she was speaking, she walked towards where the large glass clock face was letting in rays of orange-tinted light. “We’ll go to the hardware store tomorrow. Get him something nice. Replace the old hardware tools and the shovel that some people,” giving Wes and Katie a pointed look, “broke last week. If anyone has any questions, I’ll be getting ready for bed.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Guess that’s that!” said Wes, putting his hands behind his head. While walking towards his own bed, he saw the doubt in Lucas’s face. Wes grinned, and Trip he had some sort of joke up his sleeve. “Cheer up Lucas! Home Depot is sure to have a full length mirror—something to look forward to tomorrow!” He laughed before bounding up the stairs towards his bed. Lucas rolled his eyes before following him, leaving Trip and Katie by themselves in the main hall.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Exciting day tomorrow,” said Katie, drowsiness filling her voice. Trip went over to where she was sprawled over the sofa and helped pull her up. She yawned, and the two headed to bed as well.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They all piled into Lucas’s dingy car and drove to the hardware store the next day. The garden center was a visual reprieve from the concrete and asphalt of downtown Silver Hills—a miniature jungle to roam around filled with bright pops of color and a sweet, sticky air. Jen doled out each person’s responsibilities as they entered: Wes and Katie were on tool duty (though they had been talking about getting some flowers of their own in the car, so who’s to say what they would come back with), Jen and Lucas were in charge of buying any miscellaneous items they needed, and Trip was looking for Eric’s get well gift.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Since he’d be in the garden center with Wes and Katie, he decided to stick with them as they roamed around, keeping an eye out for anything that he thought Eric would like that also wouldn’t be hard on the teams budget. They’d passed row after row of perennials, annuals, and bags of mulch and fertilizer. At one point they’d almost sailed past several pots filled with lavender, with only its scent alerting Trip to its presence. He thought of dirt caked under fingernails, the whistling of chimes in the wind, and the calm intensity of dark eyes gazing at multi-colored blooms. He paused for a bit, coming out of his reverie when Katie called out to him and Wes about something she’d found. They looked over at her, and she was pointing at a small, round cactus with a red flower blooming from the top of it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Doesn’t this remind you of Eric?” she asked. Wes and Trip followed her to a plastic shelf holding dozens of small cacti in little clay pots.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Why does that one remind you of Eric? Shouldn’t any of them do that, like,” Wes grabbed a skinnier cactus that had one small arm, “this one’s just as prickly as the one you’re pointing at.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“But does that one have a beret?” retorted Katie, snickering, as she moved her finger to point at the cactus’ flower. Both Wes and Trip laughed at that. With that, Trip made up his mind. He took the cactus off the shelf.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s so cute...I’m sure he’ll like a new friend!” said Trip.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They met Jen and Lucas at the garden center’s checkout line. Wes and Katie had ended up buying some perennials, though they decided on buying one annual as well—sunflowers. While standing in line, Lucas came up to Trip and sighed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I wanted to apologize about last night,” he began, “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for no reason. Your,” he paused, his face scrunching up in thought, “gardening visits are only trying to help.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh! It’s okay, I mean, it was pretty stressful last night after all that happened, and it wasn’t the best idea to lighten up our situation like that, I didn’t mean to make it any less serious or anything considering what the consequences could be,” Trip looked down towards the floor, taking his gaze off of Lucas. “I just—I just know he’s a good person. I want to think he wouldn’t do that to us.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Lucas crossed his arms and looked towards the garden center’s entrance.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I hope you’re right.” he said. Trip was surprised to hear him hum afterwards and looked up, seeing Lucas smirking down at him. “But if anyone can convince him to, I know it’ll be you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip grinned. The rest of the checkout and ride home went well, with the sun setting by the time the team had returned to the Clock Tower. After helping to unpack what they’d bought, Trip found the spare cans of paint and paintbrushes the shop had from past odd jobs. His lines were never the steadiest, as the rainbow of crooked colors he painted on the cactus’s clay pot could attest to, but he felt that Eric would appreciate the effort.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was at Eric’s doorstep again the next morning. Wes and Jen had dropped him off, though they all agreed that it would be best if Trip went by himself, since Eric was the most comfortable with him. Trip had brought the cactus, along with medical supplies, and the set of garden tools he had the last time he visited, just in case. As Wes and Jen drove off, Wes waving and wishing him good luck, Trip approached Eric’s front door again. He cradled the cactus in his hand, breathed in, and rang the doorbell.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The footsteps that he heard from the direction of the backyard were far too fast and light to be Eric’s. Trip didn’t have much time to think about who could be making them, or why Eric had someone else at his home, before he turned around to see a small blonde girl staring at him from behind the fence, smiling at him. He waved, returning her smile with one of his own, while his mind raced to find a single reasonable explanation for why Eric would have someone else in his backyard. She didn’t leave him much time to wonder, though.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are you one of Eric’s friends?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He could feel his expression falter as she asked. <em>Eric definitely doesn’t consider me a friend, but if I say that then she might not let me in, but I wouldn’t wanna lie to her just to make it inside his house.</em> Trip sputtered as he struggled to come up with a suitable response. He could feel her still staring at him, her head tilted slightly, expecting an answer.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s okay, you can let him in.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip couldn’t help but wince when he saw Eric’s condition. Eric had appeared from behind the side of the house, one hand on his fence, and was facing Trip as well. Bandages snaked across his arms, hiding bruises and cuts beneath. Any injuries on his chest or legs were covered by his clothes, but it was his face that looked the worst. Plastic band-aids and gauze covered a myriad of scratches and large purple blots of skin, while the area around Eric’s right eye was still swelling slightly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The girl nodded, and reached for the top of the gate, though she was far too short to reach the latch. Eric smirked, lifting her up so that she was able to open the gate. He put her down as she whooped, watching her jog back into the backyard. Trip entered, scrutinizing Eric’s injuries further. He could feel the thrumming of the Quantum Morpher as it worked to heal its Ranger’s broken body, noting how much quieter it sounded. According to his own musings, the Mega Battle’s sheer strength required the Morpher to divert power from many of its auxiliary systems, including the one responsible for mending wounds. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Eric’s gonna be in pain for a while—I hope he’s managing okay…</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The sound of the gate closing brought Trip back to the green grass and white walls of Eric’s home. Eric was already on his way into the backyard, almost at the sheets that acted as a perpetual barrier between it and the outside world, before Trip ran past him and held the sheets open. Eric merely looked at him, and Trip expected, no, he knew that a snarky retort was on its way. Sweating, he braced himself for the inevitable.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But it never came. Eric instead walked through the opening, not a sound of annoyance to be heard. Trip followed. He was able to catch up to Eric after jogging a little, and the two made their way into a far more chaotic version of the yard than what Trip remembered. A pile of burnt wooden objects was near the table Trip had almost bumped into, though the table itself was too twisted and charred into a black mass. Household debris, including some chipped roof tiles and one of the wind chimes, lay in a pile next to it. Furniture had been moved around to accommodate the mess, but Trip’s eyes were focused on the teammate that was next to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“How have you been holding up?” he asked, his voice soft.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Like shit.” replied Eric, keeping his voice down so that his swearing wouldn’t reach his other visitor’s ears.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“That...that makes sense,” said Trip, “I brought some supplies that should help with the pain and soreness. But uh, I also brought this!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He held out the cactus. Eric shot him a curious look before he continued.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well, I brought it as a gift from the whole team but, it’s a get well present! I um, heard about what happened from Wes and I wasn’t sure how you were doing, or how the garden was doing, so I wanted to get you something, and I know you like plants and all and this is cute and reminded me of you so, uh, yeah.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><em>I must be blushing. There’s no way I’m not blushing and it’s in front of Eric!</em> Trip looked away, focusing on the bright red pop of color of the cactus’s flower as opposed to Eric’s dark eyes. He was only alerted to Eric taking the cactus when he felt its weight leave his hands. Looking up, he was greeted by an equally bashful Eric. Time seemed to stop as the two shared a small silence together. Eric’s mouth moved, about to say something, when the girl’s voice rang out, shattering the moment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Ericcccc! You’re taking too long! How are we gonna finish the garden if you’re this slow!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She appeared quickly, grabbing one leg of Eric’s pants and straining all the muscles in her small arms to pull him over to where the flower garden was. Eric relented, allowing her to pull him wherever she pleased. He laughed a small, but genuine, laugh.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Sorry, my friend was just giving me this present.” He explained. She said something in response, something involving the fact that the Quantum Ranger wasn’t as strong as he seemed, but that, and Eric’s response, faded into the background of Trip’s mind.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>My friend.</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip begged the muscles in his face to change the dumbfounded look on his face, but to no avail. He was rooted to the spot, struck by how Eric had referred to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Friend….It’s probably nothing. He’s just trying to be nice while a kid’s here with us, but—</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A wave of longing passed through Trip’s body. He wanted it to be genuine, he hoped that he had gotten through to Eric, but certainty had to wait for another time. His body relaxed, and he was able to move his legs again.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He followed them to the flower garden. Like the house, it had not escaped the consequences of Conwing’s attack. Many of the flowers had shriveled up, blackened due to the extreme heat of the small fires that had peppered Eric’s home. A large section of dead plants had been removed, though some of them remained, their twisted branches and stems reaching up into the sky. New trays of potted plants, along with bags of mulch and fertilizer, surrounded what remained of the small garden. A sharp pang of sadness shot through Trip’s heart at the sight.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“We still have so much to do! It’s nice that your friend came to help us,” said the girl, pointing at the potted flowers. She bounded up towards him. “My name’s Alice! What’s yours?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He kneeled down so that he’d be eye level with her. With how forthright she was, he wasn’t surprised that she’d managed to break through Eric’s defenses while the team hadn’t.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m Trip! It’s great to meet another one of Eric’s friends.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He stuck out his hand and grinned. She took it, giving it an excited shake. Finally got it! He looked over to see Eric place the cactus on what looked like a giant wooden spool, before turning towards his garden. He rolled his eyes, though the action lacked the bite it normally possessed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Come on, we don’t have all day. You guys can get to know each other while working.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Conversation was livelier due to Alice’s presence, as she asked many questions about the kinds of flowers Eric had chosen for his garden. Eric responded with short, simple answers, which Trip would elaborate on if she had further questions. It was through her and Eric’s chatter that Trip learned that the new flowers had been provided by Mr.Collins as a gift, after Eric had mentioned his garden going up in flames in his home’s damages. They worked into the evening, with many breaks, only stopping because Alice had to go back home to eat dinner. The garden had begun to return to its former splendor, with all of the damaged plants removed, the soil properly prepared, and the vivacity of new blooms planted.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are we gonna finish planting the flowers tomorrow?” asked Alice, as the three were walking towards Eric’s gate.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Sure.” Eric replied.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Is your other friend gonna be there too?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“If he wants to be.” Said Eric. Both him and Alice turned to look at Trip, with an expectant gleam in Alice’s eyes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“O-Oh! Definitely!” said Trip, eyes brightening, “So uh, same time as today?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric nodded. As they arrived at the gate, Trip remembered the medical supplies he had brought for Eric. He motioned for Eric to come closer to him, and opened his backpack, taking out a small box with several clear dermal patches. He slipped it into Eric’s left hand as they walked.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“To speed up your recovery,” he explained, “Apply one a day and you’ll be fine.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric nodded. To mitigate the risk of advanced technology spreading in the past, the team had decided on only giving Eric around three patches, enough for him to make a full recovery in no time. Trip couldn’t help himself from slipping in a few more, just in case Eric needed them now, or sometime later.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The three of them walked together until Alice’s house, where Eric dropped her off. As Trip headed towards the bus stop, he heard Alice call out to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Bye Trip! See you tomorrow!” she said, waving at him. Eric was waving goodbye as well, though his waves were much smaller than Alice’s. He waved back, wishing them both goodbye and goodnight. He sat alone at the creaky bus stop bench, his mind preoccupied with the brilliant hues that tomorrow would bring.</em></em></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>Gardening with Eric became a regular event on the weekends. Little by little, flower by flower, vibrancy returned to his backyard—the gradient of whites, purples and pinks provided by the milkweed, California lilac, yarrow, and lavender was joined by the pale yellows of Ramona monkey flowers and bright oranges of California poppies. Trip had been surprised at these additions, not that he didn’t expect Eric to add more flowers or expand his garden, but because the flowers were from his garden diagrams. He’d gotten the idea for the new additions from them, which had left Trip giddy for the rest of the week.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Their system was a simple one. Trip would come over, help Eric with his garden, chat with Alice whenever she was there, and at the end of the night, Eric would let him know when to come back. These meetings were usually two weeks apart, and always on the weekend. Eric was still more on the quiet side, but that was fine with Trip. Being with him doing something he loved was enough.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Once, Eric had asked him which flower was his favorite. Being Eric, he asked it in a roundabout way, hidden under a remark that would seem cold to anyone who didn’t know him. Trip beamed at this.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I think the lavender,” he began, “It’s got a really unique uh, shape,” he moved both his hands up and down in a line to mimic its thin tubes of flowers, “a-and the smell! It’s so strong but light and refreshing, I don’t feel so overwhelmed by it which is nice. But I still like the rest of them! They’re all really pretty!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>What he didn’t say was that he loved lavender the most because he had begun to associate it with Eric. It might have been because of its distinctive bold scent, one that was easy to identify in a crowd and often hung off of Eric whenever the two met like this. Even with their similar uniforms, it was easy to tell Eric apart from Wes while they were both morphed. Eric’s brash yet calculated confidence in his movements, along with the ease in which he backed it up, turned all eyes on him whenever he entered a fight, morphed or not.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It was this boundless confidence that kept Eric floating through Trip’s thoughts. Cradled in one of the Clock Tower’s large open windows, the cool stone pressed up against his cheek as he looked out upon the quaint skyscrapers of the 21st century, he’d think of Eric while beholding the city that they both worked to protect. For months Trip had been chasing an internal conviction that was natural for Eric. It was something he very much admired about Eric, to be able to have that confidence all the time, and not only in extreme situations.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He certainly would have loved to have it now that Alex was back.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The moment Wes returned his morpher—no, had it taken from him would be more accurate—and dragged his body outside of the Time Ship, the tension in the air that accompanied Alex all throughout his return seemed to coalesce into a solid mass, crushing the rest of the team under it. It was like thick, dark storm clouds, whose dams could break any minute. It was only a matter of when.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Once they returned to the Clock Tower, it was as if the clouds became trapped in the small home, increasing their pressure. Katie and Lucas spent much more of their time in the odd jobs storefront, though the air there was marred too. Katie attempted to keep the mood up, but whenever she tried to keep her trademark grin on her face, gravity pushed the corners of her mouth down after a minute or two. Lucas’s body was overflowing with tension, hands balled into fists, his conceit for Alex held back only by his professionalism. And Jen...well, when she wasn’t around Alex, his presence towering over her’s, she was sitting on the Clock Tower’s roof, eyes vacant as she looked at the Silver Hills skyline. Trip would join her, not wanting to be left alone on the top floor with Alex. They’d sit there, and after a while, Jen would slump onto his shoulder, closing her eyes. He’d put his arms around her as they breathed in the fresh outdoor air, relishing in their brief reprieve from their current situation.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>After returning home from their failed attempt at stopping Dragontron and Frax, the dam nearly broke. Alex had been reprimanding their performance, an action that further unnerved Trip since it was Wes’s voice used in ways he’d never expect, when Lucas had said something under his breath, causing a shouting match to break out. Both of them were almost spitting in each other’s faces when Trip had tried to move them apart. He’d grabbed Alex’s left arm, asking him to calm down, when Alex had torn it from his grasp, giving him a deep, dark glare full of frustration that even surpassed Eric’s own. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip was left paralyzed, his mind overflowing with Lucas and Alex’s argument, aware that his breaths were getting heavier and his vision blurrier while Katie and Jen did something to deescalate the situation. No eyes were on him as he ran out, grasping his stomach with one hand and shakily holding the stairs’ railing with the other. As he barged through the front doors, Circuit attempted to contact him through his morpher. The harsh beeping was like a hammer crashing against his skull, and he shoved it under the sleeve of his Time Force uniform. It was still loud, but quiet enough to become background noise as he found his way to a bus stop, aware of the stares that followed along with him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Perhaps it was a faux pas to visit Eric when he hadn’t been invited over. Trip’s steps echoed off of the cracked sidewalk into the still air around Eric’s home. His breaths shuddered with every inhale as he reached the now familiar plain door. The house’s partially scorched walls and burned furniture had been replaced by now, though it retained the utilitarian look it always possessed. While the two had repainted it several weeks ago, Trip insisting on helping even after Eric said he didn’t have to, he’d asked Eric about making the place look brighter. Eric had quipped back, asking if Trip already had made notebooks full of plans to renovate his entire home. Trip felt his face turn red, and was in the process of stammering out a response before Eric had clarified that he was kidding. Recalling this, Trip smiled slightly, though his eyes remained downcast.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As Trip stared at the doorbell, he willed his stomach to stop churning. In response to his plea, it began to swirl harder as if to spite him. <em>Who’s to say Eric is even home? I mean, if he is, I don’t wanna bother him that much. Maybe he’ll yell at me for not sticking to schedule.</em> Trip turned his gaze to the door instead. Knocking sounded like a better option right now. He lifted his arm against the pressure that had followed him since Alex’s arrival, straining to align his hand with his shoulder. He paused. The thought of having to return to the Clock Tower if Eric didn’t respond passed through his mind. Trip bit his lip, rapped his knuckles against the door, and waited.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>At first, there was nothing. No boots crunching through grass, no old hinges causing the creaking of metal. The ever present curtains shielded their lone occupant from view, preventing Trip from knowing if Eric wasn’t home, or if he was and wasn’t even bothering to deal with Trip. Turning his view to the left, Trip gazed at the entrance to the backyard, slumping slightly when the space was empty. He let out a shuddering exhale, his mind descending into scenes of Alex’s disapproval, imagining himself in Lucas’s position and becoming smaller and smaller as the harsh critiques threatened to overtake him. Placing a hand on his gem, Trip closed his eyes as he heard his breaths increasing in volume.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A loud knocking broke him out of his daze. Looking around, Trip couldn’t help but jump a bit when he saw Eric standing in the doorway, leaning on the left side of the frame, blocking most of his home’s interior from view, and gazing at him with an exhausted expression.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What’re you doing here Trip?” asked Eric. Where Trip expected malice he found only an empty resignation.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Always straight to the point, isn’t he?</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“W-Well, I,” Trip began, fiddling with the too tight collar of his Time Force uniform, “I um, I wanted to see if I could uh, um, maybe stay here a while?” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His voice grew quieter as he finished that sentence, looking anywhere but Eric’s face. A pause permeated the air as Eric said nothing, leaving Trip with only his thoughts. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>I knew it, I knew it! I should—I should leave, maybe Wes will be in his mansion again? O-Or would he be at BioLab or the hospital? But if he’s at the hospital then he definitely won’t wanna be bothered, I w-wouldn’t wanna impose when—</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Fine.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip looked up, his eyes meeting Eric’s. His brain paused, freezing his entire body along with it, while it processed Eric’s agreement. He was aware time was passing due to Eric’s expression darkening in annoyance, and straightened himself in response.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank you so much. I-I guess we could go to the backyard again? Sorry if I’m jumping the gun or anything…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“That's fine with me. But first,” said Eric, pointing at Trip’s boots, “take them off before coming inside. I don’t want dirt tracked all over the place. You can put them back on when we go out again.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip complied, holding his thick yet light Time Force-issued boots in his right hand, and followed Eric to his backyard. It was a short walk through Eric’s home, and to no surprise to Trip, it was as pragmatically decorated as its front exterior, only stocking the essentials. It looked surprisingly empty for a house that someone lived in though, but before Trip could think more about why that was, they had reached the back door. Eric was pulling on the work boots he kept by the exit, and Trip followed suit, before following Eric into the backyard.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric sat on the lone rocking chair in the middle of the yard. Trip spotted the large spool near the tree in the back left corner and dragged it near Eric, taking a seat on top of it. The wind chimes were dancing in the small breeze, creating a small song with the chirping from Eric’s birds, who were in their perched cage right next to him. Trip closed his eyes, and with the clear wind brushing against his skin and ruffling through his hair, the heat of the waning sun embracing him, and the familiar scent of the flowers wafting through his nostrils, he could almost imagine he were somewhere else, untouched by the march of technological progress or dark, swirling vortexes of an upcoming doomsday event. He didn’t want to open his eyes, to return to the fate that had been imposed on everyone in Silver Hills.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Shouldn’t you be with the rest of them.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He opened his eyes. Eric was looking right at him, lips pursed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“W-Well, that’s not super important right now,” Trip said, cringing at the low quality of his lie. After all this time he still wasn’t used to the slimy feeling of lies slipping through his teeth. “I wanted—wanted to see how you were doing! And if you had any idea how Wes was doing eith—”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>A loud, dry, bark of a laugh interrupted Trip’s question.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wes,” snarled Eric, disgust visible in the way he dragged out the name, “What a joke.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Trip yelled, standing up so suddenly that the anger plastered on Eric’s face morphed into shock, his eyes wide and mouth ajar. The invisible pressure around him exploded. Trip had had it, had it with the constant stress brought upon by Alex’s perpetual disapproval, had it with the negativity surrounding him since Wes had left and Jen had transformed into a shadow of her former self, had it with the noise and misunderstandings and inability to change anything, and he was sick, sick, sick of all of it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Shouldn’t it be obvious to you,” said Eric, his livid expression returning as he rose to meet Trip, “Considering how he dumped you and the rest of the Rangers to go back to playing rich kid the moment things get too hard? Come on. He’s always been like this.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You think he wanted to give up his morpher!” shouted Trip, stepping forward and moving his arms back, “I think you know the answer to that but you’re so—you’re so stubborn with anything involving him, and it’s so unfair to everyone, even you! It’s not Wes’s fault that Jen’s fiancé came back from the dead but didn’t tell any of us and then took his morpher without giving him a choice because he told Wes that it was his fate to take over BioLab because his dad is going to die!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip felt the tears rolling down his face before realizing that he was crying. He hiccuped, turning his body away from Eric while rubbing at his face hard with his right arm.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“And everyone—everyone’s a mess. Being at the Clock Tower is awful and I didn’t know where else I should go so I—” Trip stopped, his voice wavering as the tears continued to fall. He vaguely heard the sound of boots stepping through dirt and grass over his attempt to regain his composure, trying and failing to stop his sniffling, his crying, his embarrassment.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He sat back down on the spool, continuing to rub at his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the garden, fully completed, in its splendor of whites, yellows, purples, and pinks. The flowers were arranged in a gradient, starting from white in the center before moving to yellow, then purple at the edges, creating a small radial display in the corner. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip was enthralled by them, he had been since the beginning, owing to how almost non-existent natural plant life had become by the year 3000. Growing plants had become an intensive, expensive process due to how little space there was to grow them combined with the time needed to purify soil poisoned by millenia of industrial neglect. That such a space could exist, one that he helped create with a man who once spared him no extra thought, was a beauty that compounded on the one the flowers already possessed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The creaking of wood alerted him to Eric’s return. He was slumped in the rocking chair, holding a small book in his hands.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you about why I planted all this in the first place.” said Eric. He extended the book to Trip, who accepted it. It was well worn, so unlike the books present in the library, though not out of neglect. Its rugged pages and re-sewn spine told of an owner who had read it many times, but had the utmost respect for it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Peterson...Field Guide?” said Trip, repeating the title aloud. Eric hummed, before pointing towards the milkweed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Look. Do you see anything?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip looked closer, rubbing at his eyes again to clear his view. Within the many small flowers of the milkweed was a small guest: a round yellow bird with a small beak, round black eyes, and black streaks on its wings, head, and tail. Trip brightened.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s a bird!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Good eye. It’s an American goldfinch. <em>Spinus tristis</em> is the binomial name. They’re attracted to milkweed because they use the down to line their nests in the summer. You can find it in the field guide I gave you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip fluttered through the pages until he found it. A detailed drawing of the bird in front of him, rendering every feather, claw, and ruffled crest in such detail that he could almost feel as though he were touching it, was accompanied by a description of its appearance, where it lived, went, and what it ate, among many other things. Looking closer at the heading, Trip noted the neat penmanship that marked the bird off with a check, stating the place and date where presumably Eric had first sighted it, along with other personalized notes.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“So it’s for people who want to look at birds?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s for birdwatching, yeah,” replied Eric, “I’ve always liked birds, but I started doing it seriously in high school. The book was a gift.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“From who?” asked Trip. As he asked the question, he felt he already knew the answer.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Not...important.” stated Eric, turning Trip’s own lie against him. “But if you want to stay here longer we can see what shows up. I chose the flowers with that in mind.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip smiled.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’d love to.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He couldn’t stay long. Trip knew Alex would pester him with questions the moment he stepped over the threshold of the Clock Tower: Where did you go? Why were you out so long? Don’t you feel bad for abandoning your duty as a Time Force officer? Etcetera. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that he spotted the bright luminescent pink throat of an Anna’s Hummingbird, and listened as Eric described it in great detail, elaborating on its fast wingbeats and sexual dimorphism when Trip asked. There was no frustration or angry looks or anything like that. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>That was all they managed to spot by nightfall. They walked together again to the gate. Trip opened it, letting himself out before closing it again, ending the night with the sound of metallic creaking.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank you again for the place to stay. And the birdwatching lesson,” said Trip, “Next time though I’ll name some on my own, you can count on that!” He made a hand into a fist to accentuate his point. Eric hummed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’d like to see you try.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip laughed. He waved and said goodnight, to which Eric replied with one of his own. Trip turned around, unenthusiastic about his upcoming drilling from Alex, but more prepared by now. He began to walk towards the sidewalk.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Trip.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He paused at the sound of his own name. Curious, he turned around to see Eric about to go behind his sheets.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’m sorry.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>With that, Eric disappeared. Trip stood there, the light of the lamp posts and humming of power lines accompanying him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank you.” he said in a quiet voice, hoping that the wind would carry his reply to Eric’s ears. Somewhere in the night, a bird cawed, and taking that as an affirmative, Trip began his journey back to the Clock Tower, his spirit renewed.</em></em></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>With the amount of time he’d spent in 2001, having it come to an end felt...surreal. Everyone in both the present and future was frantic since Ransik’s surrender, whether they were rebuilding portions of Silver Hills destroyed in his final assault or organizing the ever complex time travel logistics behind bringing him back to the year 3000. Naturally, the Rangers found themselves within this swarm of people, and as Trip began to pack up the evidence of his existence in this time, what the immediate future entailed refused to leave his mind.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>There would be no more graveyard runs to the laundromat with Wes, the both of them lying across multiple chairs whenever possible, blinded by the bright fluorescent lights as the rumbling of the machines formed background noise, as Trip listened to him retell the story about how he broke his foot while showing off his first motorcycle in high school, misremembering where the kickstand was and dropping it on himself by accident. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No more bated breaths while he watched Lucas, a man of few words, state verbose prayers to whatever deity that would hear them in order to attempt to ensure that their used car would run the first time they turned the key.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No more instances of Jen calling his name, echoing throughout the small space of the Clock Tower’s top floor, as she had him try out yet another batch of cookies she made, fresh from their beat up toaster oven—the two of them in synch as they brought the warm, melted chocolate delights closer and closer to their mouths, and equally in synch as they spat them out, wondering where Jen went wrong despite her having carefully measured each ingredient.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No more spontaneous musical nights with Katie when the two of them found themselves in the Clock Tower alone, popping in an old VHS tape and marveling at the blurred edges of the actors belting out hit after hit, with him and Katie following in unison soon after, inventing their own choreography and pitch perfect for the both of them, as they made their way through the collection of tapes they amassed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>No more gardening with Eric.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip had made time, having taken a day to sit down and filling in document after document on their holo screen involving mission debriefing—documenting the Ranger’s inventory, ensuring all the mutants were accounted for, estimating how much they’d altered the course of their current timeline, among other more monotonous tasks. There was still plenty more to do, there always was, but the rest of the team was insistent on covering for him so that he’d get a few precious hours to make one last visit. Trip’s throat was still tight after he left the Clock Tower, thankful for the family he had made with them in their time in the past.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Once he arrived, there was no hesitancy in his stride as he approached the fence. Though he made arrangements with Eric in advance and he’d told Trip when to enter, it still felt odd taking the latch out and opening it on his own. He passed through, closing the gate as quietly as he could, and walked down the short lane on the side of Eric’s home and into the backyard.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric was there in the center again, in his rocking chair, his right hand gingerly clutching his left side. As Trip entered his field of vision, Eric looked over to him, a content look seeping onto his face as the wind blew dark strands of hair over his eyes. The large spool that had become Trip’s regular seat had been moved next to him already.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hope you’ll excuse me for being a poor host.” Eric grunted, attempting to hide the pain and exhaustion that lingered from the injuries he faced in their final battle. Approaching his usual seat, Trip recalled hearing the extent of Eric’s wounds from Wes, whose voice trembled in waves of fear and relief, flinching slightly as he did so. It was a miracle Eric wasn’t dead, given that his morpher and his strong will to survive were the only two things keeping his body together after he’d taken that shot to protect Wes and Mr.Collins.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s no problem! I wouldn’t want to make you feel worse, so I think you have a fair excuse,” said Trip, taking a seat on the spool. The Quantum Morpher was back on Eric’s wrist, after the team had returned it to him while he was in the hospital. Trip had left with Katie and Lucas, ushered out by the two of them as they all hoped a private chat after a near world ending event would be enough for Jen, Wes, and Eric to sort out their feelings for each other. Trip hoped they did—after all they went through, they deserved to be together at the bare minimum.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Based on how clear the waves emanating from Eric felt, the talk seemed to have worked. Trip grinned.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Didn’t expect you to be so happy seeing me for the last time.” Said Eric, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh, I mean,” Trip blushed, though he was used to Eric’s abrasive sort of affection by now, “I was just thinking about you and Wes and Jen!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric turned to him and raised an eyebrow, asking him to continue. Trip put his pointer finger to his lip and looked up at the pink and orange streaked sky.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well, I guess since I’m,” he paused, a pang of sadness shooting through his body, “leaving soon, I was thinking that Jen and Wes are gonna be your gardening buddies from now on, right?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t remind me that I’m gonna have to re-teach all this to Wes,” said Eric, punctuating the name with a deep exhale, “It still baffles me how he’s been doing manual labor for the last couple of months.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’re giving him too little credit!” Trip replied, smiling, “Wes was pretty good at all those odd jobs, even if he did complain about it sometimes. Or actually, a lot of the time when we first started.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>At that, the two shared a small laugh. Looking up at the sky, Trip noted that the plush, pale yellow clouds remained still. There was no singing from the wind chimes either, as the breeze had stopped, leaving a marked stillness over the environment. The absence of Eric’s birds compounded on the comfortable, yet looming silence. Trip wondered if time was moving at all, willing for it to stop, so that he might exist forever in this moment captured like one of the polaroids from their shared camera.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Wait.” said Trip, bringing the world back into a state of motion, “What about Jen?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What about Jen?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t you have to teach her too?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“She’s a dedicated and committed person. The kind I trust with my flowers. I don’t have to worry about her.” concluded Eric, gesturing with his left hand.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“That makes sense!” Trip replied. He turned to Eric and pointed at himself. “Does that make me a dedicated and committed person, then?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric’s eyes darkened. “Guess it does.” He redirected his gaze to the ground, jaw tightening ever so slightly. Trip paused. He clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs around each other, waiting for the thoughts rolling around in Eric’s mind to become fully formed. They were swirling together in his mouth, Eric’s tongue pressing against his cheek, as the pink sky marred by power lines faded into nothingness in Trip’s eyes, leaving a somber man pressing the tips of his shoes into the dirt to rock his chair back and forth as his lone focal point.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Why’d you even bother.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip stopped playing with his thumbs. Turning his hands over, he tightened his grip around the fabric of his cargo pants. Eric still wasn’t looking at him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Bother with what?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric sighed and closed his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Most sane people don’t try to be all buddy buddy with a guy who’s tried to murder them.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Prying his fingers apart, Trip loosened the grip he had on his pants. He released a shaky breath before scratching the back of his head. “I mean, you’re right about that,” he said, removing his hat and cradling it in his hands. Its dark interior almost mimicked the color of Eric’s irises, so he turned his gaze to its depths since Eric’s own wouldn’t turn to him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“This is probably gonna sound like a tangent, but, uh,” he began, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “but where I’m from, people—we don’t really talk to each other when we want to speak since we have these,” pointing at the mint-colored gem embedded in his forehead, “so we have conversations by thinking at each other and reading those feelings with our gems. Wes says it’s like psychic powers, which is uh, a bit of an oversimplification, b-but it helps him understand the sentiment, so I think that comparison will help you as well.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’ve um, read a lot of people’s thoughts before I moved to Earth. A-And even a bit after, since I was getting used to the whole ‘reading minds is impolite’ sentiment that people had, so I stopped soon after. And I guess where I’m going with this is that...that people aren’t simple enough to just be all bad. There’s a sort of honesty that thoughts carry, at least, that’s what I’ve learned.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Of course, sometimes I give people that benefit of the doubt and they prove me wrong but...but even when you had the chance to just shoot me and be done with it, you didn’t. You even helped me after that to save the mutant you were so desperate to gun down earlier because you’re not a bad person. I mean, if you were, there was so much more you could’ve done with the Morpher’s power and all the blackmail you had on us, but you didn’t.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“So I—I didn’t want to think that was all there was to you, you know?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip turned to face the pastel hues of the garden’s many flowers. The plot’s size had increased a lot since their first meeting, growing out to the halfway point of the backmost fence. Now-familiar Anna’s hummingbirds darted in and out of the leaves, searching for their next meal. Butterflies and bumblebees were resting on poppy petals, taking a short reprieve before continuing their respective journeys.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Trip.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric was looking right at him, his eyes sharp in their intensity yet soft in their expression. His hands were clasped together, hanging over the edge of his chair, as the faint chirping of faraway birds surrounded them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Don’t ever change.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Blood rushed to Trip’s face, tinting it red. He stammered out a small thank you as Eric reached under his chair to grab something. Eric’s legs had shielded it from Trip’s view up until now. Trip strained his neck to try and get a peek, though Eric, smirking, had adjusted his body to keep it out of Trip’s sight.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I never did get to thank you for the cactus.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip beamed. “I’m still really glad you liked it! Where’d you end up putting it, if you don’t mind me asking?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“He keeps me company at BioLab,” Eric began, “though I hear that some of the Guardians have been calling it ‘Eric Jr.’ for the same reason you picked it out.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well, actually, Katie was the one who made the connection first! Do they really call him that to your face?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric rolled his eyes at that. “Of course not.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He stood up, bringing with him the object he’d been shielding from Trip’s view. In his hands was a small wooden box, neatly painted with alternating light and dark green vertical stripes. A string of lavender was housed within it, blanketed by soft dirt. Trip was left on a perpetual inhale, unable to move as Eric approached him with careful steps. He had enough sense to put his hat next to him before accepting the gift in his arms, careful to gingerly place it on his lap.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You said that your favorite was lavender, so,” said Eric with a slight shrug, “here’s my thank you. For everything.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh Eric, I’m,” he began, trying to stammer out the myriad of thoughts in his mind into a proper thank you, “I’m really—I really love it so much,” he continued, sniffles peppered between his words. “Can I hug you? I just, I wanna make sure you know how much I like it but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything in case you don’t like being touched, or—or maybe you do, but—”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Go on. Just know that I don’t give these to just anyone.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric couldn’t help but grunt as Trip embraced him as soon as he gave his approval. Trip’s arms tightened around Eric’s back as he buried his face into the space between his shoulder and neck. Eric followed suit shortly after, bringing his own arms around Trip, a small squeeze punctuating the depths of his affection.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They remained tangled together in a moment that both lasted for an eternity and an instant. Wiping at his eyes as he pulled himself away, Trip turned to the small planter, running his hands across the smooth wood before picking it up. Standing together in the small haven they’d built, the sky faded into a burnt amber, signaling the end of their shared century. Eric began walking first, with Trip matching his stride. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The planter is so nice,” Trip said, hiccups remaining in his voice as he extended their time together in any way he could, “I’ve never seen it at the garden center before. Where’d you get it?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I made it.” Replied Eric, as though it were a widely known fact.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You made it?” Trip exclaimed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I have many secrets.” Eric said, a hint of his early Quantum Ranger arrogance re-entering his voice.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You can’t just say that right before I’m about to leave forever!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Guess you’ll just have to come back sometime! Shouldn’t be hard for a Power Ranger to get a 21st century vacation.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip laughed as they reached the gate. Eric held it open as Trip passed through, before closing it with the loud clang that Trip had gotten so used to. As he reached the sidewalk, Trip turned his head to take one last mental snapshot of the small home, engulfed by the orange light of the setting sun. From behind the fence, Eric waved a small goodbye, a sad smile adorning his face. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip beamed right back at him.</em></em></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>His 21st century vacation came sooner than he expected.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Well, to call it a vacation would be inaccurate, considering the less than pleasant circumstances that brought him back to the past. Trip looked out of the window of the Silver Guardians SUV as it rolled past downtown Silver Hills, recalling the picnic they’d shared with the Wild Force team. They’d ended up saying their respective goodbyes, before heading off to Jen, Wes, and Eric’s new home to have their own private celebration. He closed his eyes, basking in the soft radio pop that Lucas had insisted on, the snippets of Wes and Katie catching up with each other, and the silence between Jen and Eric, the two’s presence being enough of a conversation for them.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Eric pulled into their driveway, revealing a suburban Silver Hills home that wouldn’t look out of place in an old 50’s advertisement. Where Wes and Katie had the energy to leap out of the car, considering how socially drained Trip was from both the fighting and picnic, he didn’t know, but as he followed everyone out and walked up the brick pavement, a welcome sight greeted him near the front door.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Two large bushes of hydrangeas flanked the walkway, one pink and one red. Their blooms were massive and plentiful, making the home all the more inviting as their scent wafted through the air. He felt Eric come to a stop next to him as everyone else made their way into the house.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“They’re so much prettier in person!” He said, walking up to the bush adorned with red hydrangeas. He rubbed a petal through his thumb and index finger. “I like the color choices! They make a lot of sense for you guys.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Not sure what else to tell you except that I’m biased.” Eric walked past him towards the door, before looking back at him over his shoulder. “They’re only a year old, but I think I want to prune them a bit tomorrow. Don’t want the HOA to be more up my ass then they already are,” he continued, scoffing, “I’ve got a spare pair of clippers in the house in case you’re interested.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Trip grinned, breaking out into a small jog to meet Eric at the door. They stepped over the threshold, into the bright lights of the home aglow with the warmth of family.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’d love to.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All of Eric's hobbies (gardening and woodworking) are gleaned from analyzing his house in episode 20, which, if you haven't done I suggest doing so bc it's a hot mess...what a mess of a man I love him.</p><p>Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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